Red Orbs
by Innocently Devilish
Summary: A certain blonde begins to wonder why he stays with his lover and through it all he knows that for as much pain as he suffers from, he truly loves the the one who adores him most. ONESHOT


Drip.  
Drip.  
Drip.

A tanned hand covered an aching head that seemed to carry a headache that synced with the offending noise of dripping water. "Damn."

The man got up and stumbled over to the sink to cut the faucets water supply off but to no avail. Unable to move without a shooting pain going through his neck, he settled with looking in the mirror. His disheveled state made him wince.

Unruly blonde hair, clouded blue eyes, dried blood on one side of his face and, oh god, the torn clothes. He would be in trouble for that. He brought his left hand to the smeared red that kept his vision from working properly.

Who would have thought this would happen? He had gone and stayed out for a mere five minutes longer then allowed and it all went to hell when he got home. Why couldn't he have just listened to what was advised by his lover and just come home on time? His body suffered enough from the lack of proper nutrition that had been used as a way of punishment.

The blonde brought his other hand to massage his neck while he continued to wonder about what his future held in store for him. It didn't look to bright yet but with better behavior he was sure his life would turn for the better. If not, well he would die. From starvation, the beatings, or another form of punishment. His body was used to the lack of proper care but when all the extremities came along after so many years without them, it had refused to work like it would when he was younger.

The faucet continued to drip until it was turned on all the way to the right. After soaking a red washcloth in ice cold water, he proceeded to clean off the crimson liquid that had crusted onto his face. His hand grazed over the three scars on his cheek but ignored them completely.

They were old, nothing to be thought of as more then a worthless memory. The blonde's father had been what was referred to as a perfect father in the public eye. His knack for the business life and inheritance of a large amount of money had allowed him to keep his private life just as it was called, private. The boy laughed at the memories he had kept of living with the man who had treated him like a slave.

There was a groan heard from the bed and the young man quickly shut his mouth and finished wiping the rest of the blood from his cheek. He found the cut high up on his forehead and proceeded to clean it with the medical supplies they had bought together not to long ago and bandaged it, hiding it under his long bangs.

The whiskered man ran the washcloth under the water again and rung out the leftover blood before tending to the other wounds on his body and going over his outfits for the next week so he was prepared for all the ways the bruises and cuts could be revealed. He tried to remember how he had landed himself in this mess. Why did he deserve this daily pain?

Bringing a hand to the mirror he touched his reflection of the large scar on his chest. It had been given to him the day he had been caught kissing his best friend on the cheek. He had been mistaken for cheating on his lover although it was only a goodbye. Sighing, the blonde growled loudly and slipped out of his sweatpants so he could get at the rest of his body without many issues. After finishing he realized that he would not be able to wear shorts for a little while and when he did, he'd have to spray his legs with the tanning spray so the scars didn't show through.

Pulling the baggy sweats on he accidentally knocked over the first aid kit and mentally kicked him when the bed creaked and a body began to get up from it. Ignoring the pain, the whiskered man gathered everything up and put it away. As he turned to return to the bed he was brought face to face with his lover.

"Why are you up dear? Could you not sleep?"

The blonde smiled and brought a cautious hand up to the one that had had cupped his cheek. "I was cleaning myself up so I did not dirty the sheets anymore then I have." The raven haired man standing in front of him seemed to accept this answer and nodded, "I'm so sorry for what I did. I promise it will never happen again."

These two sentences brought his hopes up and he visibly brightened before moaning in pain at how his muscles had stiffened again. His lover panicked and brought him into his arms, "I don't want you to go through this. It was such a terrible mistake." He leaned his head down and captured the blonde's lips in a gentle but loving kiss, " I love you Naruto."

Dazed, the younger man nodded and brought them both back to the bed so they could sleep the remainder of the night in peace. "I love you too Itachi."

* * *

A/N: Yo! For those of you who do not understand what's goin on exactly I will put this into the simplest way ever, Naruto is abused by Itachi. He tries to think of why he deserves what he recieves in return for his love. He then realizes that the reason he stays with Itachi is because he knows that they love each other and there is always the hope that maybe the abuse will stop...

...I didn't think my little story here was that hard to understand but I guess some people can't get it easily....


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